We Will Do Better
by Daddysgirl11
Summary: Following the events of the Netflix original show, 13 Reasons Why, Clay is attempting to move on with his life, but various forces keep pulling him back to the hard reality of his present. At least he has Skye and Tony to lean on. Things have to get better...right? PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION. RATED T JUST IN CASE.


**THIS IS A SERIOUS TOPIC. READ WITH CAUTION OR NOT AT ALL. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THE TOPIC OF SUICIDE, READ WITH CARE. I LOVE YOU ALL, AND IF YOU EVER NEED TO TALK, I'M HERE.**

* * *

Knowing you played a part in a girl's death could drive anyone insane. In fact, Hannah Baker's suicide, and the reasons why she did it, caused a great deal of controversy in Liberty High.

 _Justin Foley_

 _Jessica Davis_

 _Alex Standall_

 _Tyler Down_

 _Courtney Crimson_

 _Marcus Cole_

 _Zach Dempsey_

 _Ryan Shaver_

 _Sheri Holland_

 _Brice Walker_

 _Mr. Porter_

That was the long list of people Clay Jensen could no longer look at the same way as he had prior to listening to Hannah's tapes, and, unfortunately, he himself was one of those people.

Clay had never been an overly emotional guy, or so he thought. But then, nothing really bad had ever truly happened in his life, until Hannah. He remembered often, with a sharp pain behind his left eye, that Hannah had once predicted that about him.

 _I cost a girl her life because I was afraid to love her._

That would stick with him always, and he would never dream to make the same mistake again.

Clay was waiting outside Monet's on a Saturday afternoon for his now-girlfriend Skye to get off work. He smiled when he saw her, though his smile didn't quite reach his eyes like it once had.

"Thinking about her again?" Skye asked, sighing.

It wasn't that she didn't understand; Clay had spent hours telling her about him and Hannah and what might have been between them. But then, he'd also spent a great deal of time getting to know Skye again. She'd been his friend once, long ago, before she started dressing in black and acting all scary. Eighth grade seemed like so long ago, and Clay had always wondered why his old friend had gone through such a drastic change in appearance and manner in one summer.

He knew now. He also knew why Skye cut herself, though she was trying to stop. They were getting through things together. Clay no longer focused his entire life on regret, and Skye tried to see the brighter things in life. And it worked, sometimes. When they were together, things were almost okay. Both knew, somehow, that it would actually be okay in the future, but for now they were content with playing at okay until they really were.

Clay slung an arm around his girlfriend, and she nuzzled close. Yes, Skye might look different, and act mean, but she was still the same girl, deep down. "Actually, I was thinking about Alex. I was thinking about how I should've seen it coming."

"Clay, no one could've known," Skye said immediately, but she sounded wary, because the truth was, they should have known.

Alex Standall was one of the people on Hannah's list of reasons why she killed herself, and that had been what seemed now to be the start of his downfall. Over the last several weeks, Alex had showed clear signs of depression. Clay, dealing with his own problems, had barely thought of it at all, putting Alex's behavior down to what all the people on Hannah's tapes were feeling. Lost. Angry. Confused. And oh, so, scared.

But Alex wasn't scared. He was ridden by guilt until he could no longer care, and then he'd shot himself.

Alex hadn't succeeded in his suicide attempt, though, like Hannah had. He was currently in the ICU in critical condition, fighting for his life. Clay made it a point to complain loudly at school often about the "Suicide isn't an option" posters. Because Alex had been right. Clearly, it was an option. A horrible, unthinkable option, that no one should ever have to take, but an option some unfortunately went for nonetheless.

"His dad's a wreck." Clay shook his head, remembering the few times he'd heard about Alex's father. He'd only met the man once before Alex shot himself, and it had been only briefly then. The man was one of those 'my way or the highway" types who looked for nothing but respect in his kids. He was also a cop. But he loved his son. That much was obvious, after the fact. After it was almost, and still might be, too late.

Skye made an odd sound in her throat. "Of course he's a wreck. He didn't _hate_ his son, and he feels guilty. Hannah's parents felt guilty, and in my opinion, they were better people than Officer Standall. Anyone would feel guilty."

She said it, almost as if she were trying to convince herself.

Summer between eighth and ninth grade, Skye's mom had died, and her dad had taken to alcohol. Skye was fourteen years old, and none of her friends were that close to her.

After the funeral, Skye said, they drove on a bridge on the way home, and there was no one to tell her to look for purple alligators. Her father didn't pay her any attention anymore, said she looked too much like her mother. So, a week after her mother's funeral, Skye closed herself off from people. She changed her appearance and got her first (illegal) tattoo. And she started cutting. No matter how hard she tried to block out her emotions, she still felt the pain like a thousand needles stabbing at her heart. So, she decided to alleviate that pain.

Skye told Clay she hated herself for becoming so much like her father. He'd drowned his pain in alcohol. Skye had exchanged her emotional pain for physical pain.

"Your dad does care about you, Skye," Clay told her, kissing the side of her head.

"Yeah, well he has a funny way of showing it."

Clay sighed. "Parents always do."

* * *

Clay's mom showed that she cared by smothering him. Now, Clay hadn't shared with her all the details of his struggling (namely, he'd left out the detail of standing on the edge of a cliff after hearing his tape), but their relationship was much more open and honest than it had once been.

"Clay, honey, the Bakers called again."

His mother worried at the frayed edge of her jacket as she stood in his doorway. She always got this way when talking about Hannah or her parents, or the tapes everyone now knew about, or the awaiting trials. All suspicions on Clay had been dropped, seeing as Hannah's tape clearly stated he did not belong on the tapes, and Mrs. Baker had insisted that there would be no charges brought on the boy her daughter might have loved. However, Clay was still being forced to testify. It was his voice on the tape where Brice confessed to raping Hannah. He was still a name on those tapes. But then, even Tony had to testify, and he had only been watching everyone who received the tapes, making sure they listened and passed them on.

"What did they want?" Clay asked, feigning indifference.

"They want to talk to you. They want to hear your side of the stories Hannah told."

Clay sighed. Olivia Baker had wanted him to talk to her for a very long time, before she'd even known about the tapes. Now that she'd listened to them, she'd been calling the Jensen's house insistently, wanting to talk to Clay about anything and everything Hannah.

Clay didn't want to ever forget Hannah Baker. She was the first girl he'd ever loved, and the biggest mistake of his life was not telling her how he felt. But he didn't want to live in the past forever. He didn't want to think about Hannah 24/7 anymore, but that was precisely, what it seemed, that Mr. and Mrs. Baker wanted. No one could blame them, but Clay was trying to move on with his life. Move on, but never forget. The Bakers, however, could not move on, nor did they seem to want to.

"Honey, they lost their daughter. They're trying to make sense out of their world without her," Clay's mother continued. "If it were you…"

She choked up, and Clay knew his mom was close to tears.

He stood, and drew her into his arms. His mom was a big hugger, and there was barely a moment when she wasn't holding onto her son nowadays, like if she let him go, she might never see him again.

"Mom," Clay said, gently but firmly, "we've talked about this. I made it through my bad time. I learned from all of this, though I wish I didn't have to…" He looked down, drawing away from his mother slightly, but still holding onto one of her hands. "I'm not going to hurt myself. Not now, not ever. I don't want you to worry that you're going to lose me."

"I'm you're mother, darling, I'm always going to worry about that."

Maybe, but she hadn't had her worries so prominent until two students were dead and one in the hospital.

"Mom, can we talk about this later? Tony and Skye are coming for dinner, remember?"

"Yes, of course." His mother smiled. She adored Clay's friends, and had seemed elated when he'd re-introduced Skye to her as his girlfriend. She had been worried he'd never recover over what had happened to Hannah, and that he'd never be able to find love again.

* * *

Skye was wearing short sleeves to dinner for the first time. It was clear that Clay's parents had noticed her scars, especially when she reached for the bread basket or the salt, but they didn't say anything. Not yet, anyway.

The doorbell rang halfway through dinner, and seeing as Tony was in deep conversation with Clay's mother, and Skye was attempting to explain her bizarre tattoos to his father, Clay was left to go answer it.

He was not prepared to see Justin Foley standing on his doorstep.

Justin. Even his name brought up a fresh wave of revulsion every time Clay thought about it. Justin's crimes against Hannah and Jessica may have been more of a bystander type, but that didn't make Clay like him any better.

"Justin?" Clay furrowed his brow when he could finally bring himself to speak. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't say anything, but merely stepped forward and held out a brown paper bag for Clay to hold. The second Clay's hand closed around the bag, Justin turned and fled. Clay called after him, but Justin never turned.

"Clay, who was that?" His father yelled from the dining room.

"No one, now," Clay replied, opening the bag. To his surprise—and horror—there was a gun, a small revolver with only one bullet in the chamber. Tied to it was a note. Clay set the bag with the gun in it on the floor and opened up the note gingerly. It read:

 _Jensen,_

 _I don't know why I'm giving this to you of all people. If Alex hadn't… Well, I'd have gone to him first. But there's no one else. I trust you enough to make sure I never come back for this gun. That bullet was meant for me, but I couldn't bring myself to do it._

 _I'm staying at Coach's house now. He'll get me through the trials and then he's going to get me help. Obviously, I need it. Believe it or not, I don't wanna end up like Hannah and Alex. I will forever regret the awful things I've done and the things I've let happen. Somehow, miraculously, I found a will to go on._

 _So thanks. You know the truth about me. All of it. Do with it what you will, but remember, suicide only leaves destruction in it's wake for the people still alive. I don't want to be another statistic, and neither should anyone else on the tapes, including you. Sorry about...everything._

 _Justin_

Skye and Tony came out into the hall then. Silently, Clay handed his girlfriend the note, and Tony read it over her shoulder. Once finished, Skye pulled Clay into a fierce hug, and Tony grabbed the paper bag, excusing himself.

Tony had been there when Clay had thought the worst things one could think. Maybe he believed Clay was better now, but did not want to take any chances.

Skye leaned into the dining room and said she and Clay were going upstairs for a while, and yes, they would leave the door open (though they didn't).

Once in his bedroom, Clay and Skye sat on the floor together, leaning against the side of Clay's bed.

Skye said, "I wish Hannah had gone about blaming people in a different way."

Clay blinked. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head. "These tapes have everyone thinking the worst of themselves. Yes, she should've exposed Brice and let Jessica know what really happened to her. But with everything that's happened after the tapes… Look, you've heard of copycat suicides, right?"

"I've heard about everything there is to hear about suicide, now."

"Well, do you honestly think Alex would've shot himself if he hadn't heard his tape? Do you think Justin would've been so consumed with the guilt of it all that he'd have seriously considered it the way he did? Would _you_ have ever thought of standing on that ledge—"

"Skye, Alex and Justin already had problems. I don't know what would've happened if Hannah hadn't made tapes, but I don't think Brice would've been brought to justice. And I think….I think, if we keep going and don't give up, everything eventually works itself out the way it's supposed to."

She shrugged. "I guess we'll never know." She paused, and then said quietly, "I wouldn't leave tapes, if it were me."

Clay's grip on her hand tightened, but Skye went on.

"I think I'd crash my car into a tree, maybe. Make it look like an accident. Because as much as I hate my father sometimes, I also love him too much to ever put him through the pain the Bakers and the Standalls are going through. Seeing how he reacted to my mom….I think it would kill him. And I don't want that. I wouldn't want my death to bring more death, even if I hated the person."

"Don't you talk like that," Clay said. "Don't talk about killing yourself, like you still want to."

"I don't, though," she said, giving him a small, sad smile. "Not anymore. I once told you that suicide was for the weak, but it's not. It's for those who have lost every shred of hope and spirit, two things I still have. I envied Hannah, for a while after, and I was mad at her. Why did she get to be the one who did it? Because I don't want to be a copycat. And that's when I realized, hey I care about something. And then a nerdy boy who used to be my friend showed up and asked to hang out with me."

"Don't tell me your decision on whether you live or die rests on a relationship, because that's really not healthy."

She laughed bitterly. "'Not healthy'. Clay, sometimes I worry about you." She sighed. "No, that's not true. I cared before you. I'd thought about how I'd take my life, but I didn't think I'd ever do it. And...I sought help. From a professional. They told me to make friends, so I accepted your offer to hang out. And yes, I'm glad we're dating, but even if we weren't, I'd still like to be your friend. I need you, Clay, in the way everyone needs someone. But I don't need you to _live_. That's where I differ from Hannah, I think. I know I can persevere, and she didn't. Things affected her so strongly…." Suddenly, Skye was blinking back tears. "You have no idea how much I wish I'd talked to her, even once, when I knew that writing on the napkin was hers. I _understood_ her. And that scared me. But I never thought…"

"No one ever thought," Clay said. "No one ever thought she'd do it. No one ever thought it was that bad. Now we know. Now, we must do better."

Skye held his hand tightly in her own, and leaned her head on his shoulder. "We _will_ do better."

* * *

 **So….I'm not really sure what my point was with this story, but I felt like, at least until season 2, the story should be continued. And I wasn't quite sure how I felt on making a fanfiction on such a serious topic… Hope I did the show and book justice and didn't offend anyone.**

 **God bless you all!**

 **-Daddysgirl11**


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